


Hairdresser

by Moonlightkitten



Series: Jim the Porg [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Also porgs, Armitage Hux/Jim the Porg, Because I can, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, I don't care what you say Hux, In which Ben does Rey's hair, Mostly just drabbles, Officially, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, SO MUCH FLUFF, This is a fic now I guess, This is an official ship now ok, You and Jim the porg are my otp, them being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13257189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlightkitten/pseuds/Moonlightkitten
Summary: Rey needs somebody to do her hair.Ben happens to be around.





	1. Chapter 1

“Could you hurry up, your highness?” Ben hissed, rolling his eyes as Rey applied yet another layer of sunscreen to her already caked face. The force bond had the most inopportune timing sometimes. A small fleet of New Order fighters was stationed on Jav-Tich, awaiting the Millenium Falcon, which they had tracked a few hours previously. It was necessary for the Resistance to make a fuel stop on Jav-Tich, since it was the nearest habitable planet and their engines were wearing down.

They would have to take the risk of being annihilated.

“Sorry, but unlike you, I don’t enjoy wearing all black full-body-suits to ridiculously hot exoplanets,” she snapped. “If you’re getting impatient, perhaps you could help.”

“Right, as though I’m going to give you any advantages in this battle.”

Smirking, she began to apply the cream much more slowly. “The Resistance is going to take our sweet time getting over there, then.”

“Where are you? I’ll come attack you myself.”

She spread another layer of sunscreen across her arms.

“Do you always take this long getting ready in the mornings?”

“You’re one to talk, Ben. I remember that time when you spent a whole hour grooming your eyebrows--”

“That was once.”

“Yeah, well, the point is that _I_ do what is practical, whereas _you_ preen.”

He huffed, sitting in silence at one end of her bed. She was hunched over at the other, now creaming her shoulders and neck. He managed to maintain his composure for fifty-three and a half seconds, Rey counted, a little surprised at his apparent perseverance.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Are you done yet?”

She sighed. “Force, you’re impatient. No, I need to do my legs, and then my hair.”

“You want to put sunscreen in your _hair?”_

She giggled. He was adorably stupid sometimes.

“My buns. I’m going to put it in my three buns, to get it out of my face as I whip your righteous butt during a lightsaber battle.”

“How long will that take?”

“Ben, if you’re so bored, kindly either shut up and wait for the connection to end or do my hair for me,” Rey replied, rolling her eyes and pouting her lips in an adorable little fashion that suddenly caused his brain to short-circuit and lose all connection with his mouth.

Which was how he found himself, minutes later, gathering her soft hair in his fingertips and twisting it into an approximation of her usual style. Because her back was turned, he took the time to appreciate her figure in the half-light of her tiny room on the Millenium Falcon. She was bent over, rubbing sunscreen into her calves, and he was forced to bend over as well to avoid tugging her hair. Force, she had beautiful hair. Gently, he ran his hands through it once under the pretext of straightening any knots.

The truth was that Ben had had plenty of experience doing hair before. In fact, when he was just a tiny Padawan, he used to vy every day for the right to braid his mother’s, creating monstrosities of knots and tangles until he finally got it right. He smiled slightly at the memory. Rey straightened out and he decided that, for the sake of being able to touch her for as long as possible, he would pretend to be a very slow hairdresser.

Three minutes went past.

“Ben, why don’t I just take over from here?” she asked, tilting back her head to stare at him.

“Oi, _now_ look who’s impatient. I’m almost done,” he lied.

Two more minutes.

“This is taking forever,” she groaned. “I can do this in a minute and a half.”

He humphed and expertly finished off the last knot.

“There. Happy?”

“Mm. You’re fired as my personal hairdresser.”

“Too late. I already appointed myself. For life.”

“Better not kill me today, then.”

He grinned. “We’ll see.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banter and Porgs.

It became a routine: Wake up, push a sleeping Ben off of her, grumbling   _ why can’t the force bring us together when I’m  bloody awake,  _ kick him a couple of times in the ribs until he stirred, and sit patiently on the bed as he did her hair, yawning. 

 

She never mentioned how nice his warm fingers felt stroking her tired scalp, nor did he ever care to share how beautiful he thought her during those early morning hours when she was still half-consumed by sleep.

 

Neither of them really knew how to categorize their relationship, and neither cared to. 

She was content just to feel his hands in her hair as she leaned back, half-dozing, into his chest every morning. 

 

Most mornings he brought her coffee and she would nurse it broodingly during breakfast while Leia described their increasingly hopeless situation. Sometimes he would be there at her side, invisible and quietly shutting his mind off to the presence of his mother, but usually he had disappeared by then. 

Sometimes  _ she  _ was the one who appeared in his chamber, in which case they bickered over  _ what  _ to eat for breakfast (he wasn’t keen on real food, just those nasty protein packs that tasted like charred Thorbus). 

Then always they attended their respective intelligence meetings and did not mention to anybody that they had just spent several hours in the company of the enemy, chatting as comfortably as though they had known each other forever. 

Occasionally both sides met in battle, and Rey was almost always expected to challenge Kylo Ren to a lightsaber duel, during which neither of them really felt like killing the other and they often took a few half-hearted jabs at each other but ultimately ended up just laughing and hoping that nobody was around to witness it. 

It was beginning to feel disgustingly domestic, and Ben hated that he enjoyed it. 

 

One morning, whilst they were immersed in an epic battle of Grayitchi, a somewhat obscure  card game that for some reason had been quite popular on Jakku, Ben mentioned this. 

 

“You realize that we’re basically a married couple, minus the romance.” 

 

“And children,” added Rey, laying down several cards. 

 

“And pets.”

 

“We could always get a porg,”  she suggested. 

 

“Or have a child.” 

 

“I’m rather averse to that idea.” 

 

He giggled. 

 

“Okay, what is it?” she huffed, rather miffed that he had played a particular card. 

 

“Could you even get pregnant through the Force--” 

  
“No. I’m shutting that idea down,” she told him, laying her final card. “I win, by the way. Your deal. We are never having children. Or, you know, sex. Period.”

 

“A porg it is, then.” 

 

They named it Jim and Rey kept it on the Falcon. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a comment I received.

“Aiieee!” shrieked Rey as a cursing Ben suddenly appeared in front of her. She fumbled for a towel. “Could you have worse timing?” 

 

“Not my fault,” she heard him mutter. “Why are you changing in the middle of the day, anyway?” 

 

“I have my reasons. Are you just going to stand there, or can you turn toward the wall, please?”

 

“Fine. Do you have an event tonight or something?” 

 

“Charity ball. We’re hoping to get some kind of funding for the Resistance. And no,” she added when he opened his mouth, “I’m not telling you where.” 

 

“What a coincidence,” he smirked, “because I’ve been personally invited to the Rincha charity ball this evening. It wouldn’t happen to be the same one, would it?” 

 

She frowned. “I hate you.” 

 

“No, you don’t. Can I turn around now?”

 

“If you must.” 

 

She had hastily draped herself in red robes that flowed to the floor, fastened by a brooch at her waist. “What do you think?”

 

“Terrible.” 

 

She frowned. “Why?” 

 

“Too colorful. Black is the way to go.” 

 

“Oh, shut up.” 

 

“Also, it’s on backwards.” 

***

They bickered over clothing for the better part of ten minutes, before deciding on a purple fitted top (“At least it’s closer to black”) and some light loose trousers with plenty of draped fabric for concealing a lightsaber (“What if I have to spear you if you come too close?”), before Rey decided to exact revenge on Ben. 

 

“Okay, it’s your turn.” 

 

“What? I already have my outfit picked out.” 

 

“Let me guess- that black dress with the stupid belt--”

 

“It’s not stupid--” 

 

“And the helmet--”

 

“Of course not. However are you supposed to admire my striking features?” 

 

“Fine,” sighed Rey. “But you’re not wearing black.” 

 

“I only have black.” 

 

“What you  _ have  _ is a problem. What about that purple nightshirt you have?”

 

“The operative word being  _ night _ shirt.” 

 

“So? It doesn’t look like one. You could wear that out. In fact, I insist. If I wear purple, so do you.” 

 

He scowled. 

 

“And no destroying my people, either.” 

 

******

 

The ballroom was tastefully decorated, if not splendid. It was being held in an old military compound on Rincha, and the hall was strung with all sorts of lights that glimmered quite beautifully, really. 

Ben pouted. He was glad that Hux was not around to ridicule him. Only Ben and a very small force of stormtroopers were attending the ball. Apparently he needed to “keep up images” and seem like a “kind, charitable” dictator. 

He steadfastly ignored the tiny table set up in the back bearing the Resistance logo and the purple-swathed woman standing in front of it, knowing that she would come over eventually to greet him and wondering whether it would be excusable to pretend that she did not exist. 

Sighing, he busied himself in his drink and cursed silently when he heard her all-too-familiar voice above him. 

 

“Hello, stranger.” 

 

“Won’t your Resistance pals find it strange that you’re talking to the leader of the organization that’s trying to kill them?” he grunted by way of reply, turning away.

 

“Oh, I plan to do a lot more than talk,” she said playfully, and when he glanced up, startled, she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, dance with me! I haven’t seen you-- I mean, properly-- in ages.” 

 

He didn’t quite know what to say to that, but by this time, she had already dragged him to the dance floor. He allowed himself to tentatively place his hands on each of her hips, and she in turn draped hers around his shoulders. 

 

Rey was a terrible dancer, he learned. As in, she stumbled over his feet every other step and seemed to only know how to sway a little unsteadily to the music, so he finally resorted to doing just that. It was more akin to a very long hug than actual dancing. 

 

“Seriously, though,” he whispered, leaning in a little closer so that she could hear him over the swell of the orchestra, “How do you plan to explain this to your friends?” 

 

“Um. I’ll tell them that we’re negotiating a treaty.” 

 

“While dancing?” 

 

“Apparently.” 

  
“We’d better get started then.” 

 

She grinned up at him and he wished that he had a mental camera so that he could save the image forever. 

 

“How about, ambassadors from our respective organizations will meet every morning to discuss an armistice.” 

 

“And drink coffee,” he reminded her. 

 

“I think we can leave that part out.” 

 

“Also, the future tense is slightly inaccurate.” He twirled her and she nearly fell flat on her face. 

 

“This treaty is flawed,” she agreed, giggling. “Can we just make a new one?” 

 

He pulled her closer. 

 

“How about a marriage treaty?” he murmured into her hair. 

 

“I think that Hux would strongly object to nonconsensually being married off to Jim the Porg, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”  

 

“Mmm…” he wrapped his arms fully around her waist. “No doubt. However, I don’t think he has a choice in the matter.” 

 

“It  _ is  _ for the good of the galaxy,” she agreed. “Besides, I think Hux would make a lovely housewife.” 

 

Finn stared across the ballroom, trying to make out the rather tall man with whom Rey was laughing uncontrollably. It looked almost like… 

 

He squinted. 

 

No, it couldn’t be. Ren would never wear purple. Satisfied, he turned back to the Resistance display table. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the support!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer. There's a little bit of angst at the beginning, but it gets back into the swing of things later on.

They both awoke at exactly the same time, Leia’s name on their lips. 

“Did you feel it too?” whispered Rey, fumbling blindly in the dark for his hand. “The… disturbance in the Force?”  

 

“Of course. She was my mother.” 

 

She clawed at his chest, burying her face into his nightshirt. “I’m so sorry, Ben.” 

 

“She was strong with the Force. She’ll stick around,” he replied softly, tentatively stroking her hair. 

 

“Aren’t you upset at all?” whispered Rey. 

 

“No,” he lied, glad that she could not see the moisture pooling in the corners of his eyes. 

 

“What-- what is the Resistance going to do without her?” 

 

“Collapse, hopefully.” 

 

“Oh, be serious,” she huffed. “We’re going to need a leader. They’ll probably appoint Poe, but I just don’t know how well that will work. He’s so reckless…” 

 

“Rey?” 

 

“Mm?” 

 

“Just be quiet for a minute and let me mourn.” 

 

They sat in silence for the remainder of the weary night, and when dawn broke through the windows on the Falcon, he gathered her hair into his shaking fingers and began to work. 

 

“The usual, please,” she whispered. 

 

“Not today.” 

 

When Rey examined herself in the mirror a few minutes later, she was a bit surprised to discover, instead of her usual style, two large buns twisted carefully at the sides of her face. 

 

“It’s beautiful, Ben, but… why?” 

 

“I just thought it would look nice on you,” he whispered with a strange smile, and when a knock sounded at her door a few minutes later, he was gone. 

 

“Excuse me, miss,” announced Officer Katenka in a shaky voice when Rey pushed it ajar, “It’s just that… well, we thought you should know that the general died last night. Peacefully. In her sleep.” 

 

“I know.” 

 

Katenka seemed a bit taken aback. “Well, alright. I, um, was sent to tell you that, well, the council has chosen a new leader.” 

 

When Rey motioned at him to continue, he swallowed. 

 

“Congratulations, General Rey.” 

****

Leading the Resistance was quite a bit more demanding than Rey had anticipated. For a start, she was forced to pretend to loathe Ben at every conference that she held, something which she realized suddenly that Leia must have had to endure as well. She doubted that the general had actually hated her own son. 

 

And as if that weren’t enough, the sheer volume of events which she was forced to schedule, the battle strategy that she suddenly had to decide at key moments, the negotiations with skeptical allies were all simply overwhelming.

 

Though she had only been the leader of the Resistance for a week, she was already beginning to doubt her abilities. 

 

It didn’t help when she suddenly received a message from General Hux of the New Order, demanding peace talks. 

 

She wondered if it would be inappropriate to mention his pending engagement to Jim the Porg. 

****

Rey entered the neutral area of Tick-ya 5 on the planet Yetri around ten in the morning, local time, to find that the peace negotiations would be taking place in a rather different manner than she had anticipated. To begin with, their ambassador had a large fleet of stormtroopers behind him. 

 

Also, to her chagrin, it was Ben, not Hux. 

 

“Holy mother of the goddamn Force,” she heard Poe mutter behind her. 

This was going to be difficult. 

She cleared her throat.

“Hello, um, I am Rey of the Resistance. These are my, er… fellow ambassadors,” she announced, staring somewhere to the right of Ben’s shoulder. 

 

Hux stared back. 

 

Shoot. 

 

“Hello Rey of the Resistance,” replied Ben in an equally cold tone. “Sit. I am Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the New Order.” 

 

_ You really need a more impressive name,  _ he said into her mind. 

 

_ Show-off. Why is it you? I thought Hux was going to be the main ambassador. _

 

_ Last minute change of plans. Can you pretend to hate me for the next hour and a half or so?  _

 

She stifled a sarcastic retort and instead sank into the nearest hard-backed chair. 

 

_ This had better not be some kind of ambush, Ben.  _

 

“If I may ask, why have you called us?” Finn began.

 

“Supreme Leader Ren and I have decided that it is time that we negotiate some sort of rudimentary peace agreement, so that you and your pesky fleet will stop trying to blow up our battleships. In return, we will also leave you alone for the time being,” replied Hux, staring at Rey as though she were a piece of slime that he had scraped from the bottom of his boots. 

 

She conjured up a mental image of him kissing a porg and transmitted it into his brain. He seemed startled for a moment but quickly managed to gain his composure. 

 

_ You need to teach your general friend to close off his mind a little better,  _ she told Ben. 

 

To Hux she replied, “You  _ do  _ realize that the entire mission of the Resistance is to overthrow the New Order, right?” 

 

“Well, yes,” he said authoritatively, “but, um, well, you see--” 

“Just for the time being,” interrupted Ben. “It would be a temporary arrangement. You could have time to rebuild your fleet, and we would have time to better establish our new government. Perhaps for just a few years or so.” 

 

_ And I would bring you cookies every morning.  _

 

_ Liar. The Dark Side has no cookies.  _

 

_ That’s what you think.  _

 

It actually sounded like a pretty nice arrangement, and Rey opened her mouth to discuss it further when Poe suddenly shouted, “NEVER!” 

 

“I agree,” Finn exclaimed. “Those terms would allow the New Order to develop into a monster. In several year’s time, just think what they could be capable of. Please, Rey.” 

 

Ugh, fine. 

 

“General Ren,” she began, staring icily at Ben, “The Resistance objects entirely to those terms. We do not find them mutually beneficial.” 

 

_ Sorry. Majority rules.  _

 

He seemed a bit taken aback. “In that case, we will have no choice but to annihilate  the Resistance.” 

 

_ I hope you’re kidding,  _ Rey told him darkly. 

 

_ Mostly.  _

 

“Or we could negotiate,” she suggested. “Isn’t that the whole point of a peace talk?” 

 

“Fine. State your terms.” 

 

“We are open to a cease-fire, but only for two weeks, at most, during which time you will disable any tracking radar you have on the Millenium Falcon. You will also--” 

 

_ Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?  _

 

Rey choked on her words. “Um, you will, um…” 

 

“You will agree not to attempt any destruction of the Resistance for at least a year,” piped in Finn, staring at her, a little concerned. 

 

“Right,”  she told him, gaining her resolve once again. 

 

_ That’s playing dirty, Ben.  _

 

_ Nobody said it had to be a fair fight.  _

 

_ Well, if that’s the way it’s going to be…  _

 

“We will agree to the prior terms,” Ben stated, smirking, “but not to the latter-- unless the Resistance also agrees not to attempt any attacks on the New Order for a year.”

 

“And a half,” added Hux. 

Ben glared at him for a second before continuing, “And you, Lady Rey of the Resistance, must swear an allegiance oath to--”

 

She sent him a memory then, of a rather risque dream that she had had once about him. He stuttered. 

“An allegiance oath to, to, the Empire, I mean, First, no, the New Order.” 

 

She smiled smugly. “Which is it, General?” 

 

“It doesn’t matter,” interrupted Poe. “She won’t be swearing any allegiance oaths. Ever. To anyone except the Resistance. And she despises you.” 

 

Rey sighed. She really needed to have a chat with him. 

 

“Yeah,” interjected Finn. “So do I. And these peace talks are over, right, Rey?” 

 

“No, they are not,” she stated firmly, crossing her arms. “But this is my final offer. We will leave each other alone for a month. The peace will last for thirty days, uninterrupted. After that time, we will meet again to discuss other arrangements. Do you accept?” 

 

“Fine,” snarled Ben, standing. “We accept. We’ll see you in a month, rebel scum.” 

 

_ I’ll see you tomorrow. Try not to hog the bed when you appear,  _ she replied telepathically, grinning. 

As they left, she sent another little snippet to Hux, this time of his imaginary wedding with the porg. Cursing, they heard him trip and hit the floor. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think I have a few other ideas about how to spend our vacation."

“Okay, we need to talk,” Rey huffed as soon as she felt the tuggings of the Force bond the next morning. 

 

“About what?”

 

Ben batted his eyelashes innocently, and she used the Force to slap him upside the face. He stumbled backward, grinning. 

 

“That little trick you pulled back at Tick-ya 5-- oh, don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

 

“What? Say it.” 

 

“Oh, for Force’s sake-- fine. You know,” she put on a deep, gravelly voice, “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” 

 

“Why thank you,” he replied in a tone to match hers, smirking. “I do have an elegant physique, don’t I?” 

 

“Oh, you are impossible!” she seethed. “That was  _ not  _ amusing.”

 

“Really?  _ I  _ thought so. You should have seen how red you went.” 

 

“I think I actually hate you.” 

 

“Can’t you save that till next month, when the peace expires?”

 

“I don’t know. I need something to keep me occupied until then; I might get bored. Dealing with you is a full-time job.” 

 

“And the pay  _ is  _ excellent, isn’t it? But I think I have a few other ideas about how to spend this vacation.”

 

__________

 

Apparently, his so-called “ideas” included causing a small explosion on the uninhabited asteroid of Croit and using it as a pretext for more “peace talks.” 

 

“The Resistance has violated the terms of the peace treaty,” his holographic image intoned flatly. “The New Orders demands reparations, to be decided with private negotiations between myself and general Rey only. No other ambassadors are needed or welcome.” 

 

Given how badly they had mucked up the prior negotiations, Poe and Finn reluctantly agreed to remain behind. 

 

The Falcon delivered Rey to the island Neboo on a mostly deserted planet in the far quadrant of the galaxy. Among other attractions, Neboo was renowned for its marvelous triannual dances, one of which was being held that very night.

“Call us when you’re done, or if, you know, you run into trouble,” Finn advised her. “I’m glad that these are at least being held in a public area. Be safe. Kick Imperial arse.”

 

“Bye, Mom,” she had replied. A few minutes later, she had exited the Falcon and arrived at the gates of the hall, her new lightsaber hanging precariously from a homemade belt. 

 

“My lady,” growled Ben when he first caught sight of her, lifting her hand to his lips. 

 

“Oh, cut it out,” she laughed, snatching it away. 

 

“As you wish. Nice hair, by the way.” 

 

“I have a very talented stylist.”  She turned to better display the intricate mass of braids and curls that had taken him the better part of an hour to complete. “Rose swears the last time that she saw such a complicated updo was at a senator’s wedding. Shall we?” 

 

“Indeed.” 

  
With an overly dramatic bow, he took her arm and led her toward the netrace of the great Hall, from which streamed forth a wave of gorgeous music, swelling and receding like a crystal wave that--

“Tickets, please?” snapped a voice to Rey’s left. She turned to find a short, middle aged woman stretching out a demanding hand. 

 

Rey handed over her fee- fifty-two credits. 

 

Ben swallowed. 

 

“Oh, no.” Her head snapped around. “Don’t tell me you forgot the money.” 

 

He grimaced. 

 

“Ben?” 

 

“It won’t be a problem. Let me just--” 

 

“Dammit.” 

 

“Excuse me,” hissed the woman, “but as you can  _ see,  _ there is a  _ line  _ formin’ right  _ behind  _ you, so if you would not  _ mind…”  _

 

Ben straightened. 

 

“I am the Supreme Leader of the galaxy. You have to let us in.” 

 

“The  _ lady  _ can go,” muttered the woman, looking bored. 

 

“Look, I am the Supreme Leader of the entire galaxy. Does that mean nothing to you? If you refuse us one more time, I will destroy you and all of your loved ones.”

 

“Ben,” whispered Rey warningly. 

 

“Does it  _ look  _ like I  _ care?  _ Looks like  _ this  _ lady right  _ here--”  _ she gestured toward Rey-- “is gonna have a  _ mighty  _ fine time without  _ you,  _ and that’s too  _ bad.  _ Don’t forget yo’  _ credits  _ next time. You know that they say- no  _ money,  _ no  _ honey.  _ Next!” 

 

“Okay,” Rey told her, crossing her arms, “I didn’t want to have to do this, but…” She drew the Force around her, pinpointed it at the woman. 

“You will let both of us in immediately,” Rey stated calmly. 

 

“That’s what  _ you  _ think,  _ lady.  _ I  _ ain’t  _ lettin’ Darth  _ Vader  _ him _ self _ in without his fifty-two  _ credits  _ and that is a  _ guarantee.  _ Ain’t no  _ Jedi mind tricks  _ gon’ stop me.” 

 

When Kylo raised his hand to force-choke her, Rey batted it away. “Let’s just go. No need to cause a scene.” 

 

This was how they ended up wandering aimlessly throughout the neighboring Nebooian equivalent of a Jakku supermarket which reeked of rotted fish. Ben was pouting so hard that Rey wondered whether those little crease marks in his face would become permanently imprinted there. 

She ordered them both steaming drinks from the beverage counter, but the cashier informed them that he only had enough syrup for one cup. Rey requested it anyway. 

 

“How charmingly cliche,” grumbled Ben. “Sharing a warm beverage on a cold evening.”

 

“Mm-hm. Shame that it’s just for me.” 

 

He glowered at that and she rolled her eyes affectionately, barely suppressing a grin. 

 

“Oh, come on. Don’t throw a tantrum. I’ll buy you something to eat,” she offered. 

  
They split a large plate of barely edible noodles and joked casually about the ticket collector and the food until he finally spoke up, sighing. 

 

“Sorry about this. It’s all a bit rubbish.” 

 

“Yes, but I’m not a very good dancer anyway. ” 

 

When he raised a single eyebrow skeptically, she amended, “Okay, so I’m terrible. But, you know, it’s fine just spending time with you. In the flesh.” 

 

“And you too. I… well, I enjoy your company.” 

Though she  was not exactly sure why, he seemed incredibly flustered. She snorted. 

 

“Do mine ears deceive me, or did the high and mighty Kylo Ren just say something  _ nice?”  _ Grinning, she stood. “Well, what are you waiting for? Ring the bells! This a day in history, a day to be remembered, a day--” 

“Alright, alright, point taken.” 

 

“Mm. This certainly is turning out to be an eventful date.” 

 

A mischievous gleam glinted in his eyes. “A date, hmm?” 

 

“Yes. I mean,” her eyes searched his guardedly, “this  _ is  _ a date.. Isn’t it?” 

He leaned back on his stool, considering the question.  “Define date.” 

 

“Well, it’s a meeting. An… arrangement.” 

 

“And?” 

  
She swallowed. “Generally one or both parties has a… a  _ vested romantic interest  _ in the other.” 

 

“I see.” 

 

“So… is this a date then?” 

 

“By that definition?” he paused for a very long moment, holding her gaze, savoring the uncertainty, the muted hope, in her face. “Well, yes.” 

 

Rey let out a breath. “In that case, Supreme Leader, I  _ do  _ think you’re going to have to work harder to make up for this disappointment.” 

 

“Does her highness have any requests?” 

 

“Surprise me.” 

 

“Very well then… does a good night kiss sound… acceptable?” 

 

Rey pretend to consider it for a moment, biting back a smile. “Well, if it’s absolutely necessary, I’d prefer to get it out of the way a bit... sooner.” 

 

Grinning, he pulled her to her feet and slid his hands around her hips. She leaned in closer so that their noses brushed.

 

“If you insist,” he whispered against her lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for all of the amazing support! I read each and every comment and smile. Happy New Year!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short but sweet.

“Supreme Leader Ren,” muttered Hux, bowing his head in shame, “I regret to inform you that due to… to  _ medical conditions _ , I must ask you for a temporary leave of absence. I don’t think that I can adequately perform my job in this… state.” 

 

Kylo Ren sighed. “What  _ sort  _ of medical conditions?”  

 

“Um,” Hux stuttered, flustered. “They’re rather of an… odd nature. I’d prefer not to disclose that information.” 

 

“In that case, report back to duty tomorrow morning as usual. Faking illness will  _ not  _ be tolerated in my regime.”

 

Hux swallowed nervously. “Wait, Supreme Leader-- fine. I… I get distracted. By unexpected visions. I can’t control them.” 

 

“Proceed, general.” 

 

“Fine,” muttered Hux. “A porg. At the most strange hours of the day and night, my mind is invaded by an image of a  _ porg.  _ In the visions… we… we…" he gulped. "We...  _snuggle_ . I’m not sure what causes it- I think it might be an excess of stress-- are you  _ laughing?”  _

 

“No.” Kylo Ren appeared to clear his throat. “Hux, it has become clear in the past few weeks that, due to your mental instability, you are incapable of holding the high position that you do. I have discussed this with my personal advisor, and we have arrived at the conclusion that you should be permanently demoted.” 

 

“But sir…” gasped Hux, eyes widening in shock. “You  _ need  _ me, I’m your main strategist and lead general and--”

 

“Enough.” Kylo Ren smugly crossed his arms. “My personal psychologist has also prescribed a therapy comfort animal to accompany you throughout your day to all public functions. Say hello to Jim, your new porg.”

 

Only after Hux left the throne room, trailed by a waddling Jim and sobbing uncontrollably, did Ben dare to turn to Rey, who was giggling into her fist, invisible. 

“Nice job, partner.” 

 

They shook hands.

 

"I think I'm going to enjoy working with you," she told him. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben get an... unexpected surprise.

“A baby? I don’t want a baby.”

 

“Rey--”

 

“No. I refuse. That is a terrible idea. There is absolutely no way that I am raising a child--”

 

“For a  _ week _ ,” corrected Finn gently. “It’s only for a week, Rey.” 

 

She rolled her eyes, gesturing dramatically at her scarred, burnt, and bruised body. “Right. Can you really see me--  _ me--  _ as a  _ mother?”  _

 

“Yes, actually,” put in Rose. “Stop doubting yourself. You’ll be brilliant.”

 

“Find someone else.”

 

“We  _ can’t!”  _ Finn interjected angrily. “Rose and I have to see to that trading post on Yakkipan, and Yassmin and Uruk and ten of our bombers are leading that expedition to Corthika. And we  _ need  _ to protect this baby until we can find a permanent home for him! Do you realize how  _ easily  _ the First Order could retrieve those memories and kill him? You’re strong enough to protect him from Kylo Ren and keep him hidden. I wouldn't trust the safety of a child with anyone else.” 

 

“General Katenka?” suggested Rey meekly. 

  
“On maternity leave and has twins to deal with anyway. We need  _ your  _ undivided attention in caring for the baby.” 

 

She swallowed. “... Poe?” 

 

The congregation burst into laughter. 

 

“Right,” snickered Rose, “like we could trust  _ him  _ with a kid. Honestly, the only worse parent I can think of in the entire galaxy would be  _ Kylo Ren _ .” 

 

Rey groaned inwardly. That was exactly the problem. 

 

*****

When Ben discovered that Rey was not present in any of his dreams that night, he attempted not to worry. This was an unusual but hardly unheard-of circumstance. Usually, it meant that she had not slept at all. He sent a quick message to her mind telling her to finish her work and go to bed. Her response was uncharacteristically colorful, and he interpreted it to mean something along the lines of  _ eff off, you…  _ Well, he didn’t bother to listen to the rest. 

 

Sleep-deprived Rey was a monster. 

 

He awoke the next morning to a frightening sight: She with hair unwashed and matted down her forehead, sobbing as she attempted to coerce something- was that a  _ whiskey bottle?--  _ into the mouth of a screaming infant.  __

 

Well then. 

 

He had rather hoped to relax today. 

 

Rey appeared not to sense their connection, for she was turned the other way and gave no indication of being aware of his presence. 

 

“Rey.” 

 

The infant kicked her in the face and she reeled, nearly dropping it. 

 

“Rey,” he repeated, louder this time, and she turned, screaming shrilly. 

 

“No, no, NO! Get out of here, what are you-- you can’t see, leave me alone, you--” 

 

“For the love of-- Honey,  what the kriff are you  _ doing?”  _

 

“Um.” She squeezed the baby nervously, causing it to emit a high-pitched cry. “I, I, um, had a baby. Surprise?”

 

“Uh-huh.” He crossed the room and took the wailing infant into his arms. Rey flew at him, trying to snatch it back. “Rey, if you had had a baby, your midsection would have resembled Jabba the Hut, and this baby would look about five months younger than it does. Where did you get-- actually, you know what, that’s not important right now. Why the kriff are you feeding this baby whiskey?” 

 

“It’s not whiskey,” she muttered, slumping in defeat. “It’s Turghen milk. I thought you were supposed to feed babies milk from bottles. I emptied out this one out.”

 

“Where did you learn to care for kids?” he sighed. “I don’t know much about it either, but  _ Turghen milk?  _ Really?”

 

“Oh, would you like to employ your own mammary glands for the purpose?”

 

“Rey--”

 

“Go on, breastfeed him. I’d like to see you try.” 

 

The baby screamed. 

 

“What do you do with it when it makes a fuss like this?” hissed Ben nervously, holding the baby at arm’s length. “Do you think it needs its nappy changed?” 

 

“For the love of-- how am  _ I  _ supposed to know? It’s not as though I’ve ever taken a  _ class  _ on parenting.” 

 

“Okay, let’s approach this logically. First of all, why don’t you smell its nappy?”

 

“Ugh, you do,” muttered Rey, pushing the baby back.

 

“Fine.” Ben cautiously lifted the child to his nose. “I think it’s fine. Is he tired?” 

 

“He just woke up,” she sighed, clawing at her face. “And  _ I’m  _ kriffing exhausted.” 

 

“Ugh,” mumbled Ben. “It’s going to be a long night.” 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward Ben.

Rey wasn’t sure that she would ever get used to the sight of Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the Galaxy, wearing a  _ baby bjorn  _ of all things, but so it was. 

She was so thankful that Jerrie was only under her custody for a week, but even fifteen hours with a screaming infant whom she had no idea how to care for had been fifteen too many already.    
To make matters worse, Ben had gotten involved. 

Of course he had. She wasn’t sure why she had expected to be able to keep Jerrie hidden from him for an entire week, but at the very least, she had hoped that the deception would last for longer than three hours. 

Luckily, she had managed to hold off all questions as to his origin for the time being, Ben being so distracted with… well, the “bundle of joy”, as Rose had (probably falsely) referred to him. 

Rey was skeptical. 

A bundle of terror, more like. 

Bundle of  _ what  _ notwithstanding, it was imperative that Ben not discover that this was Jerrie Tykamala, whose parents had led the revolt against the First Order on the planet Yekash. 

Besides being a valuable hostage and giving the First Order leverage for bargaining with the rebels, Jerrie had unfortunately spent three months of his life inside the (easily recognizable) hidden base of the Yekash rebels. When his parents left the base and returned to the planet Yekash, taking the infant with them, they had been killed by several stormtroopers and Jerrie had been abandoned. The Resistance picked him up. 

 

The freshly-demoted Lieutenant Hux for some inexplicable reason was delivered this news, and he immediately resolved to try out the First Order’s newly installed memory extraction technology on the baby, despite the surgeon’s warnings that it only had a 1.3% chance of working, given how undeveloped Jerrie’s brain was. Hux hoped to gain at least a tiny glimpse into the control base so that he could determine its location, bomb it into smithereens, regain Kylo Ren’s trust, and (he was planning ahead here) eventually conquer the First Order and rule the galaxy. 

 

He had decided that Jim the Porg could be his deputy. 

 

Anyway, Rey had been entrusted with protecting Jerrie for the week while several resistance members traveled to Corthikka to arrange for an adoptive family to take over full-time care of the baby. 

 

She had simply not expected child care to be so…  _ exhausting.  _

 

She and Ben had decided on a tentative sleep schedule, but, given that he was liable to disappear at any moment, he never picked up the baby during her hours of rest to prevent dropping him by accident, and so she had to deal with most of the terror herself. 

 

_ Only a hundred and forty-five hours to go _ , she told herself every minute.  _ Only a hundred and forty-three.  _

 

They passed excruciatingly slowly. 

 

Besides, she and Ben were not exactly ideal parents. 

 

Fifteen hours and twenty-eight minutes into the incident, she was still unsure exactly what it meant to “burp” a baby, or why little Jerrie went red in the face and screamed at seemingly random intervals. The infant also seemed to hold Ben in perpetual fear, probably because of his connection with the Dark Side. Rey wasn’t quite sure how anyone whom Ben held so gently could dislike him, but so it was. 

  
Rey wondered if Ben would cuddle  _ her  _ later, when this was all over. She made a mental note to ask him. Right after she finished dealing with the… mess in front of her. 

 

“BEN! CAN YOU SCRAPE THE CARROTS OFF THE CEILING, PLEASE?” she was screaming as she attempted to grab hold of Jerrie, who was kicking her in the teeth, in what was either a temper tantrum or a carefully calculated form of martial arts. 

 

Cursing, he tried to comply with her request but ended up toppling off of the chair that he was using to reach the offending meal that was plastered all over the ceiling of Rey’s cabin. 

 

“Oi, don’t be using that kind of language around a baby!” she admonished, finally managing to extricate Jerrie from his high chair. 

 

“Rey, he’s  _ five months old…”  _

 

Suddenly and inexplicably, Jerrie went completely limp in her arms. 

 

“What the hell? Did he just die on us?” hissed Ben, rushing in confusion to Rey’s side. She turned the baby over, inspecting him. 

 

“No, he’s breathing… I think he fell asleep.”  

 

“ _ That  _ quickly?” 

 

“Are you complaining?” Rey yawned, setting Jerrie down gently into the crib in the adjoining room.  “Maybe we’ll have a whole hour to ourselves.”  

“A whole  _ hour?”  _

 

“Unless you’d rather clean up those carrots.” 

 

She crossed back to the small bed in her room, sinking down into the duvet. 

 

“In that case,” he whispered huskily,  seating himself at her side, “We’d better get busy.” 

 

“Permission granted.” 

 

He kissed her thoroughly, relishing in the warmth of her mouth, which still bore the faint hints of shaving cream and parsley (there had been an incident)  from earlier. 

 

“That’s really gross,” he murmured.  “I’m not kissing you again until you brush your teeth.” 

 

She shushed him and pulled his hands down over her shoulders, which he took as permission to run his thumbs up and down the soft flesh at the sides of her ribs. He pressed his lips to her neck, trailing them slowly down to her collarbone, and slid his fingers up her back once again. Rey arched into his touch, moaning, and he suddenly stilled. 

 

“Is there a problem?” she huffed, cocking her head to glare at him. 

 

His voice was nervous and a bit scared as he replied, “You’ve got these weird… lumps on your back.” 

 

“What?” 

  
She reached behind herself, feeling the spot that his hands had just left, frowning quizzically up at him. “I don’t have any weird lumps.” 

 

“Yes, you do. On your spine… see, right here.” 

 

She seemed confused for a few seconds before suddenly emitting a few strange, strangled breaths, as though she were trying to choke down a giggle. 

 

Was she…  _ laughing at him?  _

He put on his  _ very not pleased face.  _

“What’s going on? Is there something here that I’m missing?’ 

 

At this, she seemed wholly unable to contain her laughter any longer, and burst into a loud peal of it which would have been endearing had it not been at  _ his expense.  _

 

“I’m sorry,” she wheezed, clutching her sides. “It’s just that you try to act so… so…  _ sexy  _ but you don’t even know what a  _ bra  _ is.” 

 

“A  _ what?”  _

 

This sent her into a fresh gale of giggles. “Force, Ben, hasn’t anyone ever…” Seeing his confused and slightly hurt expression, she stopped herself as best she could. “A bra. They’re these things that women wear… to keep our breasts in place…?” 

 

“Oh,” he stuttered, blushing profusely. “I… I…  I’ve heard of those… I just didn’t actually think that…” 

 

“Ben,” she asked him seriously, “You _ do  _ know about the… uh, the birds and the bees, right?” 

 

“You mean  _ sex _ ? Of course I do!” He buried his face in his hands. “Oh, Force, I don’t think I’ve ever been this embarrassed…” 

 

“Honey,” she told him, taking his hand in hers, “It’s alright. Don’t worry-- it doesn’t matter. I won’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” 

 

“That’s not what I meant.” He pulled his fingers from her grip and used them instead to gently stroke her cheek. “I do… want all of that-- I mean, I want  _ you.  _ I just… I’m not used to  _ this,  _ and I mean…” he was fumbling now, desperately trying to find any words at all. “Look, I’ve just never… and bras, I knew… know what they were, I’ve just never  _ felt  _ one before, or, you know,  _ seen  _ one…” 

  
She giggled, toying with the hem of her tunic. “In that case, why won’t we fix that?” 

 

When he understood what she was implying, he grinned slowly. “I’d like that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's been a quite a while! School is all-consuming. I have a few more chapters planned. Thanks for all of your patience! :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost done, heh heh :D

If this whole dilemma had played out the way it should have, Rey never would have considered leaving the temporary base with the baby. Really, though, it  _ was  _ Jerrie’s last day with them. Besides, given that the supreme leader of the very organization trying to kill the child was actually  _ helping to protect him,  _ it wasn’t as though Jerrie was in any significant danger. So, ( _ “just this once, you sentimental idiot” _ ) she had given up and agreed to Ben’s request to have an excursion with Jerrie in person.

 

They were meeting on Ushay, which was fabled to have the most beautiful terrain in this par-sec, boasting of lofty mountains and lush green foliage. 

 

So far, it had been a terrible disappointment. 

 

The baby bjorn bouncing uncomfortably against her chest every few seconds, Rey struggled to pull herself through a rather thick and steep patch of muddy earth as Ben waltzed far ahead, pausing every few seconds to make a comment like,  _ catch up, slowpoke.  _

 

It was everything that she could do to stop herself from reaching for her lightsaber . She reminded herself that Jerrie really didn’t need to be exposed to more violence at his young age, and that he had already undergone quite a lot of emotional trauma. 

 

Also, her lightsaber was still in two pieces. 

 

“This was supposed to be a quasi-family picnic,” she huffed as she reached the peak of the next hill, “not a bloody  _ hike.”  _

 

Ben turned, frowning. “It’s not my fault you’re so kriffing  _ slow. _ ” 

 

“Oh, excuse  _ me,”  _ she yelled up at him. “You want to carry this thing?” She gestured a bit roughly toward the baby, and he shrieked. “Shoot.” 

  
She reached out gently with her mind, finding Jerrie’s small force signature and pouring every bit of calming energy she could muster into him. The invasion of his mind, however, only seemed to upset him more, and she frantically tried to soothe him by stroking the soft fur on his arms and tail. It was to no avail. 

Jerrie screamed, and screamed, and screamed, and Ben tried to descend the slippery hill to reach the outcropping where she was standing. 

With a particularly loud  _ squelch,  _ his large boots lost purchase with the ground and he tumbled down, kicking frantically, to Rey’s feet, covered in mud and twigs. 

 

“Graceful,” she remarked. 

 

Jerrie kicked her in the thigh. 

 

Muttering, Ben rose. He was absolutely coated in various debris, his hair especially, and all semblances of a smile had been wiped from his face. 

Jerrie screamed louder. 

 

“You could  _ try  _ not to intimidate him,” Rey reproached. “You look like you’re about ready to swallow him whole.”

 

Ben plastered an unconvincing smile on his face. “How do you want to get him quiet?” he said through his teeth, not moving his lips. 

 

“Hug him? I don’t know,” she hissed back, now trying with little success to calm the baby by kissing his head. 

 

Ben studied the two of them for a minute, apparently judging his course of action. Then he stretched out his arms wide and encircled both Jerrie and Rey in the strangest version of a hug that she had ever been subject to. He patted her back awkwardly, whispering, “There, there.” 

 

Jerrie quieted immediately, to his credit, but Rey wasn’t entirely sure whether the infant was being calmed or suffocated. She pushed Ben’s shoulder out of the little one’s face and wrapped her arms in turn around him. 

 

“I think it worked,” she whispered, barely daring to breathe. 

 

Sure enough, Jerrie had ceased thrashing his tail, and the only noises from his mouth were small whimpers, an exponential improvement.    
  


“Don’t move, just in case,” replied Ben. 

 

And so she waited, leaning back into his arms, breathing in the scents of him and the baby. Ben was so  _ soft-  _ how did he  _ do  _ that? She felt so secure in his arms, so safe, so  _ loved _ . She wondered if they could ever really have this-- could this war ever end? All that she wanted was for him to hold her like this, forever, with this soft breeze blowing around them, causing little tendrils of his hair to dance around his face. The baby mewled and she wondered if they could have this, too, sometime in the far future. 

 

“What if we told them?” she breathed, peering up at Ben through her lashes. “If we told everyone about  _ us. _ To hell with the consequences.” 

 

“Rey… why?”

 

She swallowed. “I’m sick of hiding. I’m  _ sick  _ of this war. Can’t we just be together without constantly having to pretend that we’re enemies?” 

 

He moved a hand up to her cheek, stroking it softly. “They would probably exile you.” 

 

“I know.” Her voice was firm and direct. “But at least we wouldn’t have to always do this in the dark. I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be able to  _ choose  _ when I see you.” 

 

“Then tell them tomorrow. And if they make you leave, you can come to me. I’ll be there for you, always.” 

 

“Come to the New Order?” she snorted. “No thanks. That would stifle my style.” 

 

“I’d make an exception to the all-black rule,” he offered, chuckling. “Just for you.” 

  
“You’re too adorable for words. Lean over Jerrie’s head and see if you can reach to kiss me.” 

 

He could. 

 

*****

 

Bristling with anticipation, Rey slowly ascended the steps up to the makeshift platform in the hangar bay of the Resistance’s temporary base. All thirty-two faces of the movement stared up at her unflinchingly, and she could practically already taste the hysteria that was soon to fill the room. 

 

She had betrayed them. 

 

She knew it. But she had to tell the truth. 

  
Knots worked into her stomach like tiny daggers as she began. 

 

“Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between, I have a confession to make.”

Eyebrows went up. She had told them that this was a business meeting. 

And it was, in a way. 

 

“Uh… I haven’t been entirely honest with everyone present about my… relationship with Kylo Ren, the leader of the New Order.” 

 

Whispers broke out across the hall. Rey swallowed her fear. There was no going back now. 

 

“Listen, Kylo and I are not just opposing generals at opposite ends of a war. We’re actually … in a bit of a,.. a…” she gulped. “Ben Solo and I have, for some time, been engaged in a  romantic relationship. I-- I’m.. . I’m so sorry to have broken your trust. You can exile me, if you wish. I would deserve it. I know that it’s completely unacceptable to have developed feelings for the enemy, but I am… deeply in love with... Ben.” 

 

Utter silence ensued. She scanned the room nervously, searching for a friendly face. 

Finally, someone spoke. 

 

“No  _ shit _ ,” whistled the voice. Rey turned. It was Finn. 

 

“Uh, what do you mean?” she stuttered, playing with the hem of her tunic. 

 

A wave of chatter suddenly flooded the hangar bay.

“QUIET!” roared Finn. When the talking subsided, he continued, staring up at Rey with honest, unpretentious eyes. “Uh, no offense, but everyone already knew that.” 

 

“ _ What?”  _

 

“Well, yeah,” he told her. “You haven’t exactly kept it a huge secret. I mean, Kylo Ren came out of those ‘private negotiations’ you had on Yibbit-5 with lipstick prints  all over his neck, and BB-8 saw you two necking in a hallway at the Trans-Quadrant Summit. Plus, you spend so much time having these ‘peace chats’ where nobody else is allowed to come. If you didn’t want us to know, you should’ve been more careful about it, that’s all.”   

 

“So.” She flushed, surveying the room.  _ Everyone knew?  _ Jesus, how long had this been going on? “Uh, why didn’t you try to stop me?”

 

“Well, it was working, wasn’t it?” piped up Rose. “Ren hasn’t attacked us once since that battle on Ukbarit, more than a year ago. And it’s not like he  _ couldn’t.  _ He could’ve wiped out the Resistance long ago-- he knew of our location and everything-- but he didn’t. We figured, if your little affair was keeping him from going at  _ us,  _ we might as well leave it.” 

 

“Don’t mess with a running system,” agreed Finn. 

“Well.” Relief (and quite a fair amount of mortification) flooded her as she stared down at her fellow Resistance members awkwardly, most of whom were now grinning up at her. A few were evidently passing money amongst themselves, and she could’ve sworn she heard Poe say, “See? I won the stupid bet. Told you so.” 

Sighing, she stepped off the platform. She really needed a break. They all did, actually. Just as she opened her mouth to announce a vacation to Wegk,, the first location that popped into mind, however, the messaging system pinged from the other end of the room. 

 

_ Incoming holo-transmission,  _ sounded the automated voice.  _ Timestamp: 4:52 Moon-Cycles. Sender: Kylo Ren of the New Order. Recipient: Rey of the Resistance.  _

 

A few people whistled. She ignored them. 

 

Ben’s holographic head, blown to gigantic proportions, appeared from the panel. Their imaging software was quite outdated and possibly broken, and his features were very distorted and purplish. 

“Sexy,” she heard someone call. 

 

“Rey of the Resistance,” intoned the image in a monotonous voice, “The New Order requests your presence for final peace negotiations on Uhru in three days’ time. I have discussed the terms of the Resistance with my generals and advisors and we feel that it is the time for political change in the galaxy. We would like to discuss the concept of a parliamentary government with you and ask that you be open to the possibility of assuming a leadership role in the new government. Additionally,” here Ben’s image smiled a bit, “since your impetuous friend won’t be satisfied otherwise, we wish to end the Stormtrooper program and instead put in place a voluntary military until stability returns to the galaxy.  We’ll need to negotiate where the former Stormtroopers should be relocated. I look forward to your response,” he said, and then paused a moment before adding with a sly grin, “Honey,” and the room exploded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the kind comments! Please leave more if you enjoyed! :)


	10. The Penultimate...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haha, y'all thought I was dead...

_ Did you tell them? About us?  _ Rey mind-whispered at Ben once she had slid into the booth  next to him of the private room in which their conference was taking place. Ben had chosen the restaurant in the lobby of a Choominian hotel, which, despite its location (lava geysers, anyone?), was reputed to serve fairly decent food. 

 

_ No,  _ he replied. 

 

She glanced around at his stoic bunch of generals. 

 

_ I thought you demoted Hux? Why is he here, too?  _ Her gaze had fallen on a certain redhead, protectively clutching a porg. 

 

_ Comic relief.  _

 

Rey snorted and then addressed the group as a whole. “I received summons to this location from our  _ grand, exalted, Supreme Leader  _ Kylo Ren,” she began, deliberately exaggerating the formality in her tone to annoy him. “We’re here to discuss the terms laid out in your holomessage, Supreme Leader. Why don’t you go ahead and lay out your terms?” 

 

(“Can we get back to politics? Please? Yo.”- Thomas Jefferson  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

 

In the following three hours, they created a rough new system of government that would involve a representative democracy which would elect two leaders from each planet to serve on a parliament. Of course, for the sake of keeping Kylo’s emo side happy, they had to add an “Emperor” position, (which was literally just a president called “Emperor”), and whose term would last for six years. And for Rey, who wanted to keep an eye on Kylo, there was one more position which would hold equal power, but this one was actually called “President” (imagine that!). 

 

Their reformed military did include a draft system (“until things become a little more stable,” insisted General Rowena), but it did eliminate the stormtrooper program, so that was a start, in Rey’s opinion. 

 

“Also,” added Rowena,“Can we please have our soldiers wear armor that  _ actually protects them from guns  _ this time? We literally waste about 75 billion credits every year making that stupid Stormtrooper gear, and it doesn’t even  _ do  _ anything.” 

 

“But it’s a metaphor for the dark, impersonal, unyielding quality of the First Order,” muttered Ben. 

 

Everyone stared at him. “Can you cut the emo vibes, please?” begged General Urkush. 

 

“People,” interrupted Hux, who up until now had been disappointingly  quiet, “You are _deliberately_ ignoring the most central issue here. Animal cruelty needs to end! PORGS HAVE FEELINGS, TOO! Also,” he continued weakly as Phasma graced him with a withering glare, “Uh, interspecies. Marriage laws. Need to, um, change. So humans can marry porgs. Okay that was my bit. Hux out.” 

 

He was met with silence until Rey, stifling laughter, broke in. “Thank you, Private Hux. Your ideas will be, uh, taken into consideration. Kylo Ren,” she said, facing Ben directly, “I’d like to ask for your permission to suspend this conference for now and continue negotiations tomorrow. I think it’s time to retire to our hotel rooms and perhaps get something to eat,” Then, just to be spiteful, she added, “Honey.” 

 

Hux coughed. Everyone freezed fearfully, awaiting Kylo Ren’s inevitable temper. Instead, a slow smile lit his face. 

  
“I doubt they have any here,” he drawled languidly, leaning back in his seat to fix Rey with a heated gaze. “Not many bees on this planet, Sugar.”

 

It was a clear challenge, and she did not disappoint. 

 

“I’m not really in the mood for anything sweet, Pumpkin,” she replied, grinning. 

 

Ben’s generals were staring at each other in confusion, openmouthed. 

 

“Ugh. I’ve already had so many vegetables tonight, Dear.”

 

Phasma dropped her fork. 

 

“Venison has never really been my thing, “ giggled Rey. “Too lean. Baby.” 

 

When he responded gravely, “I’m not a cannibal”, Rey was unable to contain her laughter any longer, shaking with loud fits of it that seemed to send the generals into a panicked flurry.  Noticing their expressions, she buried her face into Ben’s chest, giggling uncontrollably. He chuckled too, wrapping firm hands around her and gently rubbing her back. 

 

“Uh, can I get you two a room?” huffed Hux sarcastically, one eyebrow raised to mere inches from his hairline. 

 

“That won’t be necessary,” replied Ben mirthfully, pulling the still-laughing Rey to her feet. “Mine will work just fine for our purposes.” 

He turned to leave, and then seemed to think better of it, pulling a well-worn burlap bag fro his cloak pocket. “You’ll find a thousand credits inside. Go get really drunk, all of you, and forget everything that just happened. Peace talks will reconvene tomorrow.”

 

As the future Emperor and President, both convulsing with laughter, rushed out hand in hand, Phasma whistled.

 

“Well, we’re certainly going to have an interesting six years under those two. Drinks, anyone?” 

 

******************

 

Rey threw herself, wheezing, onto the hotel mattress. “I can’t stop laughing,” she giggled rubbing her face with shaking fingers. “Force, why can’t I stop laughing?” 

 

“Probably because Hux is such a skilled comedian,” he responded solemnly, pouring himself a drink from the minibar. She snorted. 

  
“Oh, Force, don’t make me start again, you idiot. Maker, I can’t breathe.” She turned to him suddenly, biting her cheek to contain her laughter. “Perhaps you should give me mouth to mouth.”

 

“Really,” he replied smugly, seating himself next to her and kicking off his boots, “I think I’ve given you plenty of that already. Perhaps it’s time to try mouth to…  _ other  _ places.” 

 

She erupted into another peal of giggles, managing to choke out, “Don’t be acting all” - _ wheeze- “ _ sexy with  _ me,  _ mister _.”  _ - _ wheeze- “ _ As I recall, you just learned what a  _ bra  _ was the other day.” 

 

“You’re acting as though you didn’t enjoy the lesson.” 

 

“Oh, I hate you,” she muttered unconvincingly.” 

 

“No, you don’t.” 

 

“Hmph. What’s in that drink, anyway? Orange juice?”

 

He blushed. “No. Uh, vodka.” 

 

“Liar.” 

 

“Fine. It’s orange juice.” 

 

Rey giggled. “You act so--”

 

“Shhh.”

 

“--mature--”

 

“Get some sleep.” 

 

“--but you’re really just--” 

 

He reached over her to pull the cord on the lamp hear her head. “Hush.” 

 

“--a big baby.” She elbowed him in the ribs. “Why do I love you?” 

 

“Go to bed, Rey.”

 

“No, really, why?” 

 

“Probably because nobody else can do your hair as well as I can.” He paused a moment before adding, “And my raging good looks.” 

  
She giggled. “I don’t know about tha--”

 

“Shhh,” he whispered again, pulling her into his arms. “Sleep.” 

 

( _ Cue Yoda in Gollum voice: “Don’t fall asleep!”) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What am I doing with my life?
> 
> Also, if you don't get the Yoda thing, watch: "Seagulls, Stop it Now!". It will change your life. 
> 
> Promise.


	11. The End!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so. Random surprise: I'm actually finishing it. I was in a Reylo mood today, so welcome to the cheesiest, most extra chapter yet. Hope you enjoy!

**Three years later.**

 

The day was perfect. 

 

Really perfect.

 

So perfect, in fact, that Rey was sure that every guest seated in the outdoor auditorium was currently wishing that  _ their  _ weddings would have had weather this nice.

 

It was taking place abreast of the Ramine hill in Yevgab, where a makeshift altar strewn with pink and red roses (Roses’s fault) and really cheap zebra streamers that did not match from Intergalactic-Mart (Finn’s fault-- he still held some grudges against the groom) had been constructed. Also, since apparently Hux’s credit card was way overdrawn and nobody else felt like helping much with wedding planning, there weren’t any seats for the 12,000 guests, except four rather unstable folding chairs.

 

“Ahem,”  began the priest, a short man with gray curls protruding from his (really way too tall) priest hat, “Mawiage. Mawiage is what bwings us togewer today.” 

 

Ben coughed. 

 

Kriff, these shoes were tight. And…  _ high.  _ Why would anyone invent something so likely to break somebody’s ankle? They were just a liability risk, she reasoned. 

 

Not to mention this stupid long dress. Combined with the heels, she probably had a 23% chance of falling flat on her face as she walked up the aisle. 

 

“Mawiage, that bwessed awangement, that dweam wivin a dweam…”

 

Ben made a kissy face at her and she mock-gagged, poking out her tongue. 

 

“Twu wuve.”

 

This really was taking longer than she had expected, having never attended a wedding before. 

 

Of course, she had been at the rehearsal, but Chewy had acted in place of the priest then. She vaguely wished that it were him officiating the wedding now. It would be a lot more entertaining than  _ this  _ bloke. 

 

“Awight, eweyone, come up the aiwle now. Time fow the vows.” 

 

Finally. 

 

She lifted the folds of her gown so that they wouldn’t drag so much and stumbled, wincing, through the grass in those thrice-damned stilettos. 

 

The priest cleared his throat. 

 

“Awmitage Wufus Husx, do you take, uh, Jim, uh, Powg to be yow wuvwey wedded hubbie?” 

 

“I do,” responded Hux solemnly, “and also, my middle name isn’t Rufus. It’s Susan. For the record.” 

 

The priest squinted at his little priest book (kriff knew what the proper name for them was), before muttering a bit angrily, “Apowogies. Now, Jim, do you take Awmitage to be yow wuvwey wedded headband-- sowwy, huwsband?”

 

Jim the Porg let out a high pitched screech that Rey assumed was some form of agreement, though it was hard to interpret his expression given that his eyes took up the majority of his face. 

 

“Dubious consent,” she mouthed to Ben, who grinned back at her.

 

Thank kriff. She hoped that this would be over soon. Being Jim’s maid of honor really had not been a rewarding experience so far, despite her honor (no pun intended) at having been chosen. 

 

Ben appeared to be having similar regrets to agreeing to the position of Hux’s flower girl. 

 

*****************

  
When all was said and done, though, the reception proved to be significantly less horrible. 

She was allowed to change out of that ridiculous dress and to don new shoes (dubbed “flats” by Rose, though Rey wasn’t sure exactly why, given that  _ all  _ shoes were flat, or ought to have been.)

 

Also, Ben. 

 

It was nice. The food was good, the music was good, and… 

  
  


Who the kriff  _ was  _ that couple, ogling them from across the room? She swore they looked familiar, but in a foreign way, and they glowed with a bluish sheen, both of which were enough to make her rather uncomfortable. 

 

“Uh, Your Superb and Exalted Majesty--”

 

“I swear, Rey,  if you don’t stop calling me th--”

 

“Fine.  _ Ben,  _ why are those people staring at us, and should we be concerned?” 

 

“Probably just admiring my six pack. Even so…” he squinted in the couple’s direction, “Maybe we should go check it out.” 

 

They made their way across the ballroom, Rey keeping a cautious hand on her lightsaber, which was concealed within the folds of the (smaller) dress that she unfortunately had to wear. 

 

Wait. 

 

Could that be… 

 

No.    
  


But it was. 

 

“Hey, kiddos,” smirked the Force ghost of Han Solo, raising an eyebrow. “I see you two got busy while we were gone.” 

 

Leia snorted. “Please, you always knew it was going to happen. Anyway, congratulations!”

 

“Uh….” stuttered Ben, open mouthed, just as Rey gasped out, “Congratulations? On what?”

 

“Well, you two getting married, duh,” said Leia, as though it were obvious. “What else would I be congratulating you on? Your fashion sense? Because, let me tell you--”

 

“Actually, this isn’t our wedding,” murmured Ben. “It’s, uh, Hux’s.” At the blank stares that his comment were met with, he added sulkily, “Secretary of Interspecial Marital Affairs for the Republic. Total Prick.” 

 

“Dammit, Han, I  _ told  _ you to double check the date!” hissed Leia, slapping him on the chest.

 

“It’s not  _ my  _ bloody fault that you nearly burned the house down cooking that stew while I was trying to write it in the calendar, no  _ wonder  _ I was distracted.” he muttered sheepishly.

 

“I  _ told  _ you it was  _ next  _ week, not  _ this  _ one, but ‘no,’ you said…” 

 

“Well, if your cooking skills weren’t so piss poor maybe--” 

 

“Hold on,” interrupted Ben. “You have  _ calendars  _ in the afterlife?”

 

“Uh, I think what he meant to say is,  _ we’re getting married in a week? _ ” asked Rey, raising an eyebrow. 

 

Han sniffed. “See, Leia? You have to go and spoil the surprise--”

 

“Han--”

 

“So your  _ own child  _ doesn’t get to enjoy his stupid marriage proposal--” 

 

“Wait,” said Rey, “ _ were _ you planning to propose to me? Like, soon?”

 

Ben shuffled his feet, embarrassed. “Uh, no, actually, I decided it would be better if we didn’t get married. Ever. If you’d grown up with  _ my  _ parents…”

 

“Really,” sniffed Leia. “If you’d grown up with  _ my  _ parents, which, by the way, I didn’t,  _ my  _ relationship with Han would look like the perfect marriage, and, furthermore--” 

 

“Okay, people,” growled Han, “Can we please all just stop arguing? Yes, Rey, you and Ben get married next Friday. No, I don’t know how the hell it happens. Actually,  _ we  _ probably caused it with this conversation, come to think of it.” He smirked. “It had to be done  _ somehow _ . Anyway, Princess, since we’re at the wrong wedding, we might as well head home.” He turned to Ben and Rey, both of whom were still in states of extreme confusion. “We need to deliver those zucchini spiralizers to Padme, and Yoda’s throwing this raging party tonight at his place with a ton of booze and stuff, so we need to get moving if we want to catch her before she’s too drunk to stand up. Let me tell you, though, she is 500% more fun once she’s downed a few.” 

 

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Wait, hold on. Basically what you’re telling us is that the afterlife is  _ way  _ better than this life? I mean, if I were dead, I’d get to meet my alcoholic slash sith lord grandparents, eat zucchini pasta, and experience  _ Yoda house parties?”  _

 

“Uh,” Leia coughed, “Actually, the worse you are in your first life, the worse your financials are in the afterlife. So, you know, since you’ve killed a bunch of people, including your own dad, and oppressed most of the galaxy, you can probably count on at least a ninety percent income tax and a really low credit score. Plus, around a five hundred percent sales tax, I’d say.”

 

“Yeah,” agreed Han. “ I mean, I’ve got a twenty-five percent sales tax  _ just  _ because I shot first _.  _ Anyway, as I was saying, Princess, we should probably  _ go  _ before we have to deal with your stupid  mother’s low tolerance for alcohol. _ ”  _ He glared at Leia. “Remember last time, when we had to drag her out of the--”

 

“Hey, don’t look at me, it’s not like she actually raised me.”

 

“ _ Your _ genes, though. That’s all I’m saying.” Han snorted. “Anyway,  _ as I was saying,  _ we kind of need to avert a crisis here, so see you two kiddos next week at your actual wedding.” 

 

“Uh, wait--” hissed Rey, but they had already disappeared. She turned to Ben, raising an eyebrow. “Explain. Marriage? In seven days?”

 

He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” 

 

She turned, rolling her eyes and leading him by the hand back to the punch bowl. “Shall we congratulate the newlyweds, then?” 

 

“We  _ are  _ sort of the parents of the groom,” he conceded. “In a way.” 

 

“And look how it turned out. Poor Jim is stuck married to a freak, and it’s our fault. This is why we should never have a real child.” 

 

Ben laughed. “Yeah, I’m just hoping Jerrie didn’t end up with major PTSD after being raised by us for a week.” He paused, seeming to consider something before adding, “By the way, you are the most gorgeous human I’ve ever seen and I love you to death.” 

“Whatever, Ben, I’m  _ not  _ paying off your mortgage in the afterlife.” They arrived at the wedding table, where the redheaded groom was quite busy shoving cake into the face of his new husband, who was flapping his wings at the cake in a futile  attempt to reciprocate the action. 

 

To his credit, Hux at least appeared to be making Jim laugh, if that was what those shrieking noises coming from his beak were. He probably could have ended up with a worse mate. Probably. 

*******

“...and you may kiss the groom. Slash bride. Don’t care what order you do it in. Just not for too long, because that’s disgusting.” 

 

“Thanks, Finn,” muttered Rey as she leaned into Ben. “Shall we, Honey?”

\---

Yoda hit  _ pause.  _ “Fast forward we should. Kissing scenes I not like.” 

 

Leia tackled him, fumbling for the remote. “It’s a  _ wedding,  _ honestly, what did you expect-- mmph--” She pried the device from his hands, pushing him off of the sofa. “Okay.”

 

Han took it from her, pressing  _ play  _ with dramatic gusto. Leia rolled her eyes. 

 

Onscreen, their son’s lips brushed Rey’s briefly before she collapsed giddily into his chest, giggling.  

 

“Oh, come  _ on,  _ you call  _ that  _ a kiss?” roared Han,  jumping to his feet. “Okay, looks like I need to go back down there and teach my son a few things.”

 

“Why bother?” Leia said, crossing her arms. “It’s not live, we recorded this on the DVR because Padme was too drunk at the time to watch. You’d just be interrupting their wedding night.” 

 

Han chuckled. “Come to think of it, that’s not such a bad idea either. I’m sure he needs lessons on  _ that  _ front as well.” 

 

“Han!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! It's done!   
> Question that some people have at the end of fics: Will there be an epilogue?   
> Answer to question: There may at some point be a separate fic about Jim and Hux's life together (since they're the true stars of this fic), which will probably also contain Reylo. Also: what is their ship name? Jux? Him? Ideas?   
> Also, speaking of which, I was checking out the Hux/Jim tag, and apparently it got put under Hux/Other, so we clearly need to fix this by writing more fanfiction about this ship. I would encourage any interested people to try their hand at it.   
> Thanks so much for all of the lovely comments and feedback throughout this!  
> Please leave a final comment if you were not too overwhelmed by the craziness.


	12. Epilogue

Okay, so heads up:  I wrote an epilogue to this, but it's not actually _here_. It's called Jim, and I added it to this series so that it would be easier to disown later. Have a great day and don't read it if you know what's good for you. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic now I guess? Thanks for all your lovely comments. :D


End file.
